


Aren and the Mabari

by Zenith931



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 17:52:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13059108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenith931/pseuds/Zenith931
Summary: My Inquisitor dealing with the loss of her arm, and having to deal with a dog as well.





	Aren and the Mabari

“I cannot take him with me today.” Cullen stated simply.

“But I’ve never taken care of him! I haven’t had pets before! I don’t know what’s involved.” Aren exclaimed in protest.

“He’s a mabari. He’ll make it known what he needs.” Cullen shrugged.

“To Fereldens, maybe. Mabari is a foreign language to the rest of the world.” Aren growled.

“Perhaps. But I’m your Ferelden dog lord, so you might as well learn.” Cullen repeated as he brushed aside the off handed insult. Aren had been in a foul mood while she was adapting to life sans an arm. 

“In exchange you could at least let the servants bring a little wine.” Aren tried to ply a little desperately.

“Not on your life.” Came Cullen’s reply.

“I’m really starting to question marrying you.” Aren scowled.

“It was my handsome good looks.” Cullen winked at her. Aren scowled as Cullen kissed her quickly. “You’ll do fine.” He started, “Just bring him outside once in a while.” With that, he picked up a pack of supplies and left for the day.

Aren was left staring at the mabari, named Max. She renewed her scowl. She had never owned pets before. She didn’t particularly relish the idea of having another being even remotely reliant upon her. She picked up a wine glass and took a drink, then cursed and tossed it against the wall upon the reminder that all alcoholic drinks had been verboten by Cullen. The servants and all other staff knew not to bring her anything but the most watered-down blends or anything non-alcoholic. 

With a frustrated sigh, she rubbed her forehead. Her head had been pounding as a daily event. She typically endured it without a word, but she was in a particularly foul mood today. There wasn’t really any reason why she was so upset, but her moods seemed to be on average, a little more sour than usual since she had lost her arm. She had a basic prosthetic at the end of her arm, supplied by Cullen, and a letter from Dagna that she was ecstatic at the idea of perfecting and improving upon its design. It worked well enough now, she had extensions to get her back to fighting with a bow or dagger, but every now and then she still woke up and it seemed as if that day was a throwback to the crushing realization that she was without an arm. Perhaps it was the dreams, or lack thereof, now. Either way, she awoke and realized, as if anew, that she was unable to do what she had done before without special prosthetics or instruments.

A heavy, warm object slowly rested itself on her lap and she opened her eyes to see Max’s head on her lap. He looked up to her with oddly empathetic eyes and whined once, softly. 

“What?” Aren snapped at him. Another quiet whine was her answer. With a disgusted noise straight from Cassandra’s vocabulary, she shoved Max’s big head from her lap. “You smell.”

She shifted her seat on the couch and picked up a book, opening it to where she had left off before. A few moments passed and she felt the same heavy, warm object on her legs. She scowled and looked down at Max’s head. He whined softly, then shook his stump of a tail. His eyes looked almost hopeful, Aren mused to herself.

“Maker! What?!” Aren snapped at him. Ignoring her tone, the mabari trotted over to the exit to the suite and shook his tail faster, looking back at her imploringly. Aren growled and put down the book. “Fine. We’ll go outside. But you’re getting a bath.”

The mabari cocked it’s head, obviously conflicted about the development, but he shook his tail slowly.

___________

Aren and Max trotted along the walkways of Halamshiral’s gardens. A blue satin bow sat perched on Max’s head. The groomer was obviously unaccustomed to handling mabari, after his bath, Max was treated to painted nails and a pretty bow was placed upon his head. Aren found the whole thing endlessly comical and she laughed upon seeing the mabari returned to her. Max, on the other hand, looked equal parts mortified at what had been done to him, but also somehow conflicted because Aren was smiling and laughing. In his confusion, the dog wagged his tail slowly, but his ears stayed flat in abject discomfort at his makeover.

“You look ridiculous.” Aren smirked at the dog.

There was a small whine of confusion, but the mabari’s tail wagged briefly. Aren walked him over to a small courtyard in the garden and sat down on a bench. The courtyard was one of several in the meticulously maintained gardens of Halamshiral. While there were other nobles and other Orlesians walking among the gardens, the sounds of fountains washed everything out and created little pockets of privacy in the gardens. The mabari sat before her on the ground. 

Aren looked over at Max. “What? Go play or something. Whatever dogs do.” She leaned back against the bench back and closed her eyes, hoping the lack of visual input would calm her headache. She heard the mabari’s paws pad away, then returned and a small object was dropped in her lap. 

She cursed and lifted her head to look in her lap. Max stood before her hopefully, a small stick resting on her lap. The stick still had a few leaves and other greenery on it. A gardener somewhere would likely sob at the destruction of the plant Max just wrought. Max twirled around excitedly as Aren picked up the stick. She moved it aside, off her lap and resumed resting her eyes. Again, the stick was moved back to her lap.

With a scowl, she glared at Max. “I’ll get you another bow if you don’t stop.” She pointedly pushed the stick off her lap again.

Aren watched the mabari as it seemed to think about its options, then it picked up the stick and put it back on her lap with a daring expression. It seemed to be calling her bluff that she likely didn’t have any more bows in her possession. 

With a silent curse, she picked up the stick and watched as Max twirled around in excitement. She tossed the stick a few feet away and with an excited bark, the mabari bounded off after it. A few seconds later, the stick was dropped in her lap again. She repeated the process again and again for a few minutes.

The mabari happily trotted off after the stick each time, seemingly never tiring of the game. With each subsequent toss of the stick, Aren’s mood soured a little further. The dog was complete, had all of its limbs and suffered no impairment. The perverted reminder of Aren’s recent injury soured her mood and eventually she was throwing the stick further and further for a longer break in her depression. Of course, the longer the delay in having the stick retrieved, was a longer moment she stared at the mabari happily bounding after it.

After a few moments, the stick was deposited at her feet again. Max stared at her happily, expectantly. Aren’s dark thoughts motivated her and she motioned Max over. The mabari sat at her feet and looked at her trustingly. She took his paw and a length of rope and tied the paw up against his chest. Max looked at her with a confused expression and tried to stand up with one less front paw.

“It’s not so easy, is it?” She growled at Max as he awkwardly toppled over. The mabari looked up at her with a confused expression at what she did to his foot. Aren’s face remained emotionless. “It’s difficult, isn’t it? That’s the issue. You can’t just up and do everything the same again.” 

Max whined as he tried to stand up and once again toppled over. She didn’t move to help him. “You should be happy about this. Vivienne sees this as an opportunity, Cullen and Cassandra just strap something on and expect you to pick up as normal. You can’t, though. That’s the whole point. You just can’t get back up like nothing happened.” 

Max wriggled around on the ground, trying to get up. “Fuck. Why am I talking to a dog?” The mabari finally managed to right itself on the ground and was cautiously trying to stand up. “It’s not like you understand me.”

Max whined softly and managed to stand. Aren watched him grumpily, the same words of bitterness cycling through her head over and over again, eroding her mood even further. The mabari seemed to wobbily get its balance and hobbled over to her. She picked up the stick and bitterly threw it as hard as she could across the courtyard. With a happy bark, the mabari whirled around and chased after on three legs. Max fell over once or twice, but immediately bounded over, picked up the stick and then ran back, seemingly oblivious to the fact he was operating on only three legs.

The stick was left on her lap and Max’s stumpy tail waved happily. Aren’s expression turned slightly thoughtful. With a studying expression, she picked up the stick and tossed it far across the courtyard again. Max whirled off and chased after the stick. This time, he fell only once, but again the mabari picked himself up without another thought and continued on. The stick was dropped at her feet in short order again. 

“How did you just pick it up that fast?” She frowned in thought. “Doesn’t it bother you?” Max didn’t seem to respond and resumed sitting before her with a happy expression. 

“You only have three legs!” She shouted at the dog in frustration. Max tilted his head slowly, as if trying to interpret her words. 

“You’re acting like it doesn’t bother you….” Aren trailed off and in exasperation scoffed at herself again, “Here I am talking to a dog again.” 

Max whined softly and inched closer, resting his head on her lap. He looked up at her quietly. The blue satin bow rested on his head, askew from his tumbles on the garden yard. It looked absurd and she smirked a little, moving it back into place. Max grumbled and whined at the bow being repositioned. 

“It does bother you.” Aren mused quietly, fiddling with the bow. Wagging his tail slowly, Max didn’t move as she paid him attention. “You can’t get rid of it. It does bother you, but you just pranced around the entire time with a fucking stupid bow on your head.”

Max wagged his tail slowly. “A fucking stupid bow on your head and you still went off to play like it wasn’t there.” Another tail wag.

Her fingers reached over and undid the restraint on his paw. For a moment, Max held the paw up, then slowly let it back down to rest on 4 legs. “And then you trotted off to play fetch on three legs.” Aren mused quietly, half talking to the mabari, but half talking to herself. “You just moved on. Dealt with the change and moved on.”

Max licked her hand as it passed by and touched his head gently. She petted his head once, then seemed to remember herself and fingered his ear. “You have silly looking ears.” She said, as if explaining the errant sign of affection.

The mabari’s ears perked up and his tail wagged a bit faster. “You look fucking ridiculous with a bow on.” She laughed quietly and undid it from the dog’s big head. “There. You can at least look a little less stupid now…”

A few things seemed to click into place in Aren’s head and she stood up. “C’mon. Let’s get something to eat. Let’s get you a chicken leg.”

Max’s hears perked up even higher and he jumped up to follow after Aren happily.

_____________

Cullen walked into the quarters he shared with Aren. A long day of drilling soldiers and going over member lists with Leliana as they pruned back the size of the Inquisition drained him. He dropped his bag and looked over at Aren, who was asleep on the couch, Max laying on her legs, also fast asleep.

With a little smile, Cullen removed the book which was dumped on her lap, it was obvious she had dozed off while reading. Max looked up at the movement, but didn’t move. Cullen patted his head softly, then paused. 

“Why are your nails painted?”


End file.
